


Happy Ending

by Em_Jaye



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Comic), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Another AU no one asked for, Bisexual Darcy Lewis, Body Positivity, F/M, Just in mention, but here we are, massage therapist au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-28
Updated: 2018-02-15
Packaged: 2019-01-06 11:47:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12210681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Em_Jaye/pseuds/Em_Jaye
Summary: mas·sageməˈsäZH,məˈsäj/verb:1. To rub and knead (a person or part of the body) with the handsIn which Darcy finds herself under the hands of one very skilled massage therapist named Steve Rogers.





	1. Warm Up

**Author's Note:**

  * For [McGregorsWench](https://archiveofourown.org/users/McGregorsWench/gifts), [candiedvoltage](https://archiveofourown.org/users/candiedvoltage/gifts).



> I got a massage on Sunday. So Darcy got a massage. That's really all there is to this. It will be 2 parts and then I'll probably return to all my other WIPs. 
> 
> Also, I missed two special Darcylander birthdays in the last two weeks, so this is for them as well. It's...moderately birthday themed. A little bit? Not really. I'm sorry ladies! You're wonderful and should have both received individual stories!

 

Darcy made her way down the block, carefully scanning addresses for the one that matched the text from her boss. The early fall breeze was crisp against her bare calves and she regretted not putting on longer yoga pants. She frowned and checked the closest address again.

_Are you there yet?_

She rolled her eyes as another text from eccentric billionaire, owner of Caffe Carbonell, and signer of her paychecks, Tony Stark popped up on her screen.

 _Not yet,_ she tapped back the response. _What’s it called? I’ll get there faster if I know what I’m looking for._

 _No way,_ Tony responded. _That’ll give away the surprise._

She sighed fondly and stopped outside a small brownstone with a beautifully painted sign that read _Gemini Wellness Center and Day Spa._ Darcy raised an eyebrow and consulted the address that had been texted to her early that morning. Still dubious, she tapped the phone button and waited for the call to connect.

“Are you there?” Tony asked with the enthusiasm of a five-year-old. “Are you surprised? Am I the best boss ever?”

She laughed and rested a hand on the wrought iron fencepost of the small yard that surrounded the house. “Depends on if I’m in the right place. Gemini Wellness?”

“Yes!” Tony exclaimed. “I’m trying to support local and according to Pepper, they’ve got some of the best hands in the city.”

She frowned and tilted her head in confusion. “And…what am I supposed to be doing here?”

It was Tony’s turn to laugh. “You’re supposed to go inside and tell them that your name is Darcy Lewis and then let them take care of the rest.” He paused. “Oh, and then later you’re supposed to call me and tell me that I’m the best boss ever and that you’ll never leave me.”

She smiled again and rolled her eyes a second time. “You _are_ the best boss and I’m really not going to leave you any time soon.”

“Just go inside, Lewis,” Tony said, a smile evident in his voice.

She sighed and tucked the phone back into her purse, shaking her head once before she took a deep breath and made her way up the walk and pulled open the front door.

The change from the crisp autumn air and busy Brooklyn streets hit her swiftly as the door swung shut behind her. Inside smelled clean and vaguely citrusy and the lighting was soft and comforting. She took a deep breath and felt instantly and unexpectedly relieved and at home.

“Hello,” a musical voice floated from the first room to the right. She followed it to find a waiting room outfitted with deep couches and a large wooden desk, behind which a young woman with large eyes and sleek dark blonde hair was looking at her expectantly. “How can I help you today?”

Darcy smiled tentatively. “Uh, hi,” she took a few cautious steps toward the desk and hitched her purse up onto her shoulder.

The woman smiled. “Hi,” she said, her voice was soft and throaty and held traces of an eastern European accent. “Welcome to Gemini.”

“Thanks,” Darcy said, feeling a little more at ease as she reached the desk.

“Are you here for a treatment, or would you like to book an appointment?”

She blinked. “Uh, I think I’m…” she cleared her throat and remembered what Tony had said. “I’m Darcy Lewis,” she said firmly. “I think my boss made an appointment for me.”

“Hi Darcy, I’m Wanda,” the other woman said before turning her attention to the computer screen to her left. Her black fingernails flew over the keys for a moment and she raised her eyebrows. “Ah yes,” she said with a smile. “Ms. Potts made the appointment for you,” she said, reaching for a clipboard. “She and Mr. Stark were very specific that you have the absolute best we offer.” She squinted at the screen once more. “For your birthday?”

“It was,” Darcy said with a smile. “Last week.”

Wanda smiled. “Well happy birthday,” she said, sounding genuine. “I’ve set you up with our best therapist, but I can make adjustments if you’d rather have a woman.”

She blinked. “Oh,” she said, glancing up from the brochure she’d been leafing through. “Uh, no,” she shrugged. “A…guy is fine. What…um, what exactly did Pepper schedule me for?”

“90 minute, hot-stone massage with aromatherapy,” Wanda said without missing a beat.

Darcy felt her eyes widen. “Seriously?”

Wanda nodded happily. “Yes, they’re very happy to have you working for them. You’re the café manager, right?”

She nodded. “Yeah, Caffe Carbonell,” she pointed needlessly behind her, in the direction of Tony and Pepper’s hip Italian café where she’d been working for the last eighteen months. It was the newest of the Stark Co. restaurants and the only one in Brooklyn. Caffe Carbonell’s sisters were in Manhattan and Queens and each boasted a Michelin star a piece; while she felt lucky to be part of such a well-known brand, Darcy had no real desire to move beyond her small, ten table, sweets and espresso menu café any time soon.

Tony and Pepper remembering her birthday and scheduling her pampering appointments to say thank you was just the icing on an already sweet cake.

Wanda nodded and fished a pen from a bowl of glass beads. “I love your cappuccino,” she said and presented the pen and clipboard to Darcy. “I can’t seem to walk past without stopping in for one.”

Darcy beamed. “Well thanks. We try.”

“You succeed,” Wanda smiled again and motioned to the waiting room. “Just have a seat and fill out the intake form. Can I get you water or tea?”

“Uh, water’s fine,” Darcy said as she sank into one of the plush leather sofas. “Thank you.”

Wanda disappeared into a back room for a few moments while Darcy filled out the form with her name and information, checking boxes about her medical history and what kind of pressure she preferred in a massage.

She glanced up as a glass with ice and a floating slice of cucumber was placed on the table beside her. She handed off the completed form and took a sip of the water as Wanda glanced over her answers. “Thank you,” she looked up with a smile. “Steve will be out to get you in a minute, but just let me know if you need anything before then.”

Darcy was flipping through the Gemini brochure again, noting that Wanda was not just a receptionist, but a co-owner of the spa, alongside her twin brother when a man cleared his throat and pulled her attention upward.

She almost choked on her cucumber water at the sight of the man standing in the doorway. He was tall and built with broad shoulders, narrow hips and the kind of All American good looks she had previously thought were only reserved for Ken dolls.

“Darcy?” he asked, raising his eyebrows.

She nodded, momentarily mute and got to her feet. “Yeah,” she said, wondering if it was too late to tell Wanda she wanted a different therapist. Someone less pretty. Or at least a different, more female kind of pretty who wouldn’t have her feeling self-conscious about her cellulite and back fat. But Wanda had disappeared again and Darcy forced herself forward and extended her hand. “Hi.”

Her therapist smiled and Darcy felt that knot of tension that had developed in her stomach relax just a little bit. “I’m Steve; it’s nice to meet you,” he shook her hand firmly before he motioned for her follow him down the hall. “I hope you don’t mind, we’re going to be upstairs today,” he said over his shoulder as he led her up the hardwood steps of the house and to the second floor. There were doors on each side of the hallway and Steve led her to the third on the left.

He helped her out of her jacket and closed the door behind them, motioning for her to take a seat on the chair or the massage table in the center of the room. She chose the chair for the moment, taking in the soft light and dreamy feel of this small room. There was a metal locker against one wall, next to a counter beset with oils, lotions and towels. Steve sat on the wheeled stool and smiled. “So tell me about yourself.”

“Um,” she blanked for a moment before she managed a casual smile. “I…didn’t know I was coming here today,” she said with a shrug.

Steve laughed, to her delight. It was a nice laugh; not the kind that sounded forced or part of an act. “Wanda mentioned that,” he said easily. “She said this was for your birthday?”

“Yeah,” Darcy nodded. “From my boss which…might sound weird, I guess. But it’s really the best thing they could’ve given me.”

“And what do you do?”

“I run a café a few blocks over. Caffe Carbonell?”

Steve nodded. “On your feet all day?” She nodded with a grimace. “Concrete floors?” Darcy wrinkled her nose as Steve laughed again. “Say no more,” he said. “I have a feeling I know exactly where you’re carrying your tension.” He offered another smile. “In fact, your industry is kind of my specialty.”

She inhaled steadily, trying to remind herself that he was a professional, and that it didn’t matter how attractive he was or whether or not she could make him laugh, he was going to do his job and be paid by the generosity of Tony’s credit card and she was going to ruin this lovely gift if she kept overthinking every second of their interaction. “Is your…girlfriend a waitress or something?” she chanced, resisting the urge to drive the heel of her hand into her forehead.

But if Steve noticed or was put off by her fishing, he didn’t seem to mind. In fact, he laughed again and shook his head. “No, my mom, actually. When I was growing up, she worked three waitressing jobs to pay the bills and when she’d wake up every morning she could barely walk, she was hurting so badly.” His broad shoulders moved in a shrug that didn’t quite achieve nonchalance. “So I started learning massage techniques when I was a kid to try to help her out and get some of the tension out of her shoulders so she could make it through her shifts.”

Darcy willed her heart not to swell. Just who did this guy think he was? Looking that good and then spilling a heartwarming anecdote about his ailing mother? She let out her breath and offered a smile. “That’s sweet,” she said honestly. “I’m sure she appreciated it.”

He glanced down at the floor for a moment and Darcy could have sworn he looked almost embarrassed as he clapped his hands to his knees. “But that’s enough about _me_ ,” he said pointedly and got to his feet. “Are you going to work after this?”

She blinked at the change in topic and the obvious shift back to a professional line of questioning. “Oh, uh, no,” she shook her head. “It’s my day off. Why?”

He turned away briefly and examined the bottles of oils and lotions on the counter. “I’m aiming for deep relaxation while you’re here,” he said, making a selection and sliding the other bottles to the side. “But if you were heading to work, I didn’t want you to be _too_ relaxed that you couldn’t do your job.” He offered a smile over his shoulder and Darcy felt herself return it. “But if it’s your day off—unless you say otherwise—I’d rather just turn you into a stress-free puddle and let you enjoy the rest of the day as tension-free as possible. Sound good?”

Her grin widened. “That sounds wonderful.”

“Great,” he motioned to the room. “I’m going to concentrate primarily on your shoulders and lower body,” he said with an air of absolute confidence in what he was saying. “And probably—if you’re serving and working in a café setting, I’m going to guess you could use some attention on your hands and forearms too. Before I leave to let you get changed, is there anywhere you’d like extra attention? Or anywhere off limits? Anywhere you don’t want to be touched?”

She shook her head and waved away his concern. “Nope. You can touch me anywhere you want,” she paused with a frown. “I mean. You know what I mean.”

If he took that as suggestive he didn’t let on. He only smiled, told her to undress as far as she felt comfortable and left with the promise that he’d knock before entering again.

“You can touch me wherever you want,” Darcy repeated as she rolled her eyes in self-disgust. “I’m sure he’s _never_ heard that before.”

She toed out of her sneakers and socks and set them next to her purse under the chair. She pulled her sweatshirt over her head without ceremony and folded it to set it aside. She’d just slipped her thumbs in the waistband of her yoga pants when she remembered that tonight was laundry night. And that she hadn’t planned on getting a massage by a Calvin Klein model for ninety minutes out of her day.

And that she wasn’t wearing any underwear.

“Fuck it,” she said out loud and slid her pants off before she shrugged out of her bra and folded all her clothes in a neat pile on the chair. No matter how pretty he was, she reminded herself as she slipped under the sheets on the table, she was certain Steve had seen far worse than her dimpled ass and thighs.

And at the very least, she’d showered and shaved her legs that morning. So what else did he want?

Immediately she applauded her unintentional decision to go nude. Whatever they did to these sheets had them feeling like a warm, soft kiss against her bare skin. She eased herself over onto her stomach and pulled her hair off her neck and over to one side before lowering her face to the table.

After a minute, there was a soft knock at the door and she called out an ‘all clear’ before lowering herself back down. She didn’t see him come in, didn’t even hear him moving around but for the soft, almost muffled jazz that started playing from the opposite corner.

“Any opposition to Glenn Miller?” Steve asked with a smile in his voice.

Darcy smiled at the floor and shook her head. “None at all,” she said as she felt him approach. There was another brief moment of nervousness before she heard him sit down on the stool and she felt his fingers slide into her hair and push it all forward, exposing her neck and both ears.

He pressed gently against her temples and spoke in a low voice, “Okay, Darcy, I want you to take three deep breaths and give all the tension you’ve been holding onto permission to melt away, okay?” She did as she was told, inhaling the lavender and vanilla oils he had chosen for her. He slid his thumbs along her jaw, loosening where she was clenching her teeth unconsciously before he gently rubbed her earlobes. Once she’d settled into a new routine of deep, intentional breathing, he leaned in again. “You just keep breathing like that,” he instructed gently. “And let me know if I need to adjust the pressure, okay?”

She nodded again, not trusting herself to speak and admit that she was already putty in this man’s hands.

Steve folded back the layers of blankets and settled them below the very base of her spine. He started at the small of her back and worked his way up, pausing every so often to apply more oil to his palms. He stopped just below her shoulder blades when he hit a knot and she jerked involuntarily. “Just as I suspected,” he said, almost to himself before he flatted his hand against her back. “It might hurt for a minute, but I promise you’ll feel a lot better when I’m done. But if you want me to stop, just say the word.”

“No, it’s okay,” Darcy said to the floor. “I trust you.”

It did hurt, but only for a minute. When he pressed his thumbs into the heart of her most troublesome knot, she had to bite her lip. But after just a moment of pressure, Darcy felt the muscles relax for what seemed like the first time in months and she had to swallow back a moan of relief.

As promised, he spent a gloriously long time on her shoulders. His talented hands sliding from the middle of her shoulder blades to the base of her skull, banishing the tension they found at every stop along the way. Darcy felt her breathing deepen even further as the lavender started kicking in. “Do people ever fall asleep?” she asked as he worked against the knots in the tops of her shoulders.

She heard him smile again. “All the time,” he said softly. “So don’t worry about offending me if you’re feeling sleepy.”

She shook her head. “Not sleepy,” she promised. “Just very relaxed.”

Steve moved her hair again. There was something so intimate about the way he did it; the way he sank his hands into her curls and let his fingers drift softly down her neck. “Good,” he said, his voice right next to her ear. “That’s what I want.”

If she’d been more awake, she might have gulped and felt a cringe of embarrassment at having no idea how to respond to that. But she was feeling too good to worry about anything other than what pain Steve and his magic hands were going to erase next. If all this gorgeous Alpha male wanted was her to be relaxed, she was going to have no trouble giving him what he wanted.

He moved on to hot stones next. Setting them gently against her spine before rubbing each stone along the back of her arms and letting them sit, hot and heavy in her hand. He sat next to her and work diligently with her forearms and wrists, gently manipulating her joints and causing her fingers to curl on their own accord. His hands, extra warm from the stones, held hers delicately, working the residual stiffness from each bone and tendon until she felt like she wouldn’t be able to hold her arm up if he hadn’t been doing it for her. He laced his fingers with hers, squeezing her hand gently as he pressed his thumb into the center of her palm.

Darcy could not remember being so relaxed. Between the soft touch of the sheets against her skin, the music and the soothing oils and the feeling of Steve’s hands working to undo eighteen months of standing on concrete floors, she felt herself sinking deeper and deeper in this cave of contentment she'd almost forgotten she could access.

He pulled the sheets back up to her shoulders and moved to her lower body. Darcy’s breath hitched for a moment as he folded the sheet on just the right side to expose her whole leg. He bent her knee and flattened his hand against the bottom of her foot, pushing down and rotating her knee and hip like he had with her wrists and elbows. He stopped and oiled his hands again. “Your skin is thirsty,” he said softly, laying her leg back down. “It’s beautiful,” he added, almost under his breath, “but it’s very thirsty.”

Darcy felt her breath hitch again. She opened her eyes and stared at the carpet as she bit her lip, wondering if she’d heard him right. “You…think my skin is beautiful?” she asked quietly.

Steve placed both of his hands against her, one palming the entire exposed side of her ass while the other slid firmly up the outside of her thigh and gently pushed her hips into alignment. “I do,” he said quietly. “It’s rare to see someone without tattoos,” he continued, turning the attention of his fingers to the back of her thigh. “You’re like a blank canvas.”

She bit back a smile and reminded herself he probably found something nice to say about all of his clients. “I don’t like needles,” she admitted. “And I’ve never found something I liked enough to want it on my body forever.”

She heard him chuckle under his breath. “Commitment issues, huh?”

Darcy pressed her lips together, wondering just how friendly he usually got with his clients. “My uh,” she coughed, “my ex-boyfriend thought so. My ex-girlfriend didn’t.” Steve’s laugh was a little more pronounced this time. “You don’t think that’s boring?” she asked, mentally shooing away the urge to wonder if he was flirting with her and just enjoying the fact that he didn’t seem to mind that _she_ was flirting with him.

“I don’t think any part of that sentence was boring,” he said, making her snort back a giggle. “But if you’re asking about the tattoos, I think you’re making the right call,” his hands slid up her leg again, more slowly this time. “Doing anything to alter this porcelain would be like putting a bumper sticker on a Ferrari.”

At that, Darcy let herself laugh out loud. “I’m more of a Town Car than a Ferrari.”

Steve’s hand swept slowly, almost lovingly around the side of her leg to work both sides of her thigh at once. “How so?” he asked, a smile evident in his voice.

Darcy lifted her head up and chanced a look back at him over her shoulder. “Built for comfort,” she caught his eye with a grin. “Not for speed.”

It felt much too soon after he’d moved to her left side that he’d covered her up again and placed a hand on her back before asking her to flip over. She let out a little groan as she flipped underneath the blankets. “Does that mean we’re almost done?” she asked, running her hands over her face and fanning her hair back out behind her.

Steve smiled down at her and resituated the blankets. “Only halfway,” he said sweetly, reaching behind the table for a moment. “I’m just going to put this on your eyes,” he said, a moment before a warm, soft weight fell over her closed eyes and answered the question of whether she was going to keep them closed or open for the next half of her massage. The eye mask, whatever it was made of, smelled a little like eucalyptus and rested heavy on her face, resting gentle pressure against her temples where it draped. “Everything feeling okay so far?”

Darcy let out a half-laugh. “Okay is an understatement,” she said honestly. “This is fantastic.”

Steve’s hands were on her shoulders again. “Glad to hear it,” he murmured, dragging his fingertips from the tops of her shoulders to the base of her skull. “Relax your neck,” he reminded softly. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

She had to smother another shy smile, feeling much more self-conscious now that she was on her back and he could see her face. “No,” she said, shaking her head. “I know you won’t.”

“Then relax,” he said, more firmly this time, placing one hand on each of her ears to roll her head one way and then the other. Pleased with how the tension in her muscles seemed to melt away as if by his command, she heard him smile again. “Good girl.”

Darcy’s stomach flipped inconveniently and she willed herself not to blush while Steve ran his thumbs across her jaw and gently massaged her earlobes again. She was grateful for the eye mask. Without it, she would have been tempted to keep her eyes open and study what he was doing. She wouldn’t have been able to resist looking up at him while he had his fingers in her hair, working at the areas where she was usually plagued by at least one headache a week, or while he moved his ministrations downward and folded the sheets back to expose her right leg up to the hip.

Almost too carefully, he moved the sheets to tuck around her leg, making several adjustments while his other hand coaxed her knee to bend. He trailed his fingertips down her calf and took hold of her foot.

He pushed on the sole of her foot, pushing her knee first up toward her chest and then out to the side. He moved her leg in a slow circle until she felt a little pop in her hip. Darcy swallowed hard at the touch of his palm on her inner thigh. He stroked the back of her knee mindlessly with his other hand while he ran his thumb over the tendons in her thigh. It was only the inverse of what he'd done before, but it hadn't felt quite so intimate when she was on her stomach.

She resisted the urge to squirm, trying desperately to ignore the fire pooling in her belly and the back of her throat. _He’s just doing his job,_ she reminded herself harshly. _You need to calm the fuck down and start letting people touch you more than once every two years._

“Still feeling good, Darcy?”

Almost certain he could read her thoughts, Darcy swallowed again and nodded, not trusting herself to say any more than a hum that sounded vaguely positive. Especially when she felt him lean into her and rest her leg against his chest, letting her ankle fall on his shoulder.

“Sorry if this feels weird,” he said, leaning harder against her as he curled a hand around her hip and pushed her joints back into alignment. “I want to make sure your hips are taken care of. Take any undue pressure off your feet.”

“S’fine,” she mumbled, not wanting to say anything else. Like that it felt more than fine. Like she liked the way he talked about her hips, as if they were something he wanted to take care of. Like that it was only too easy to imagine how good it would feel to drape both legs over his shoulders and let him slide his full weight against her and take care of whatever he wanted.

As the minutes ticked passed and he worked his way all the way down to her ankles and covered her right side up again, Darcy began to wonder if this little crush she’d developed had left her with the ability to process time at all.

It should have been flying, by all accounts. She should have been clinging to each moment as it raced past but as Steve set to work on her left side, she could help but wonder if he was slowing down on purpose. If he’d rushed things earlier and now wanted to make sure he filled the time slot.

That was the only reason she could think for the slower pace he’d adopted for her legs. It wasn’t that she’d noticed any sense of urgency before, but now it seemed like he was purposefully dragging things out. Taking his sweet time on each muscle group.

And making it so very, _very_ difficult to keep her libido in check.

Especially when she could feel every part of his hands against her as he thoroughly relaxed her perpetually aching legs and hips. When he kept speaking to her in that deep, soft voice that conjured up images of equally soft eyes in contrast to the strength he was commanding. Any pain he had to cause was fleeting and chased away by swift relief and an apology of soft, playful fingers across her skin.

The longer she lay there, the more this massage was starting to feel less like a massage and more like foreplay.

Only it _wasn’t_ , she reminded herself. Because while his touches might be have leaned toward teasing a few times and he seemed to be content to drag out the attention he was lavishing on her thighs, Steve was still a professional. He wasn’t doing anything inappropriate, he was entirely respectful of the boundary of the sheet, and better than all of that, he was really, _really_ good at his job.

She was just touch-starved and reading into every gesture through the lens of this sudden and inconvenient crush.

Darcy swallowed back a sigh as he reset her blankets and folded them back so just her feet and calves were exposed. Steve was still standing as he picked up her right foot and rested her heel against his chest. Her foot twitched instinctively when he pressed his thumb into the center of her arch. “Are your feet ticklish?” he asked. She heard another smile in his voice.

“Apparently,” she bit her lip and squirmed again as he added a little pressure to the point beneath his thumb. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he assured her, giving her ankle a quick squeeze. “And I don’t want to make this uncomfortable for you,” he swiped his thumb downward again, holding her tightly in place when she wiggled a third time. “But if you just give me a few seconds I think you’re going to feel a lot better.” He squeezed her ankle again. “You trust me, Darcy?”

She swallowed and let her breath out through her nose. “Yeah,” she nodded. “I do.”

“Good.”

She missed the weight of his hand on her ankle as he reached for something she couldn't hear. After a moment, she felt the hot kiss of heated stone against the arch of her foot and her head tipped back on its own accord. She had to swallow down an ungoverned moan of satisfaction. Steve's expert hands followed the stones and within seconds, Darcy felt better than she had in years.

“Mind if ask how long you've been working on your feet?” he asked, still steadily rubbing away knots and pinches she had just assumed would always be there.

“Um,” Darcy pursed her lips in thought. “Well I just turned thirty-two last week so--” she broke off to muffle another moan of relief. “Sixteen years, I guess.”

“You should let someone take care of you more often,” he murmured, almost to himself.

If she hadn't been riding a wave of near-orgasmic relief, Darcy might have been tempted to make a joke about her finances or her limited health insurance. As it was, she wasn't paying too much attention to what was falling out of her mouth. “Give me your number, you can do this after every shift.”

He smiled again. “Don't threaten me with a good time, I just might take you up on that.”

By the time he’d finished with her other foot, Darcy was pretty sure this was as close to heaven as she was ever going to get. She barely even noticed when Steve set her feet back down on the table and covered her up with the blankets.

She did notice that he let his hand trail from the tips of her toes all the way up her right side as he made his way from the foot of the table back to the top where he paused and placed his hand over her eye mask. She took another deep breath, inhaling the essential oils he’d just been working with. Sweet and spicy and soothing all at once.

When he spoke, his voice was right next to her ear. “Is there anything else I can do for you today, Darcy?”

She felt her heart stutter and she forced herself to shake her head. She was caught between desperately wanting to remove her blindfold to see how close he really was, if there was anything in his expression that matched his tone and wanting to remain in the dark--literally--and pretend he couldn’t tell the kind of effect he was having on her.

The weight of his hand moved from her eyes to the sides of her face and if she didn’t know better, Darcy would have thought he was going to kiss her. “You’re sure?”

She nodded, afraid to say anything that was going to break this spell. Her breath caught in her throat as his thumb brushed ever so gently over her lips.

“I want you to take your time sitting up; there’s no rush, so make sure you go slow. And for the next forty-eight hours, it’s important that you’re drinking plenty of water, okay?” He asked, his voice returning to the friendly, professional tone he’d used at the beginning of the massage. She felt him stand up straight and move farther away until the door’s hinge squealed and it opened and shut with a click.

With an unsteady hand, she reached up and pulled off her mask. Her eyes welcomed the dim, silvery light of the room as she sluggishly moved to sit up straight. She held the covers protectively over her chest with one hand. The fingers of her other hand came up to touch her lips where Steve had, lighter than a whisper, just a moment ago.

Puzzled and still frowning, Darcy carefully slid her feet to the ground, expecting to wince with her usual aches and pains, amazed when she realized none were there waiting for her. In the confusion of the last minute, she’d almost forgotten how amazing the other ninety had been. Though slow-moving and reacting like they were under a spell, her limbs felt lithe and loose and fluid. Better than she’d felt in a long time.

She dressed slowly, catching herself when a wave of dizzies threatened to topple her over when she bent down to get her shoes. She paused and pushed her hair back with a sigh, resisting the urge to touch her lips again.

Maybe that was part of the service, she considered with a shrug. Not super likely, but not the craziest thing she’d ever heard. Especially in a hip, new-agey place like this one. She sat up straight and wiggled her foot back into her shoe. It didn’t quite account for that moment right before he’d touched her mouth. That moment when she absolutely would have kissed him back if he’d tried something.

Didn’t actually explain that at all.

Darcy got into her other shoe and grabbed her sweatshirt off the chair. She yanked it over her head and took a deep breath. Whatever that moment had been, she reminded herself, it was over now. Steve was going to be waiting on the other side of the door and she’d gush about how great she felt--because she did--and how wonderful and talented he was--because he _was_ \--and he’d walk her back to the lobby and she wouldn’t have to worry about how weird he thought she was or how charged the air had felt around them that one, brief speck of time.

But when she opened the door, it was Wanda who was waiting for her with a bright smile and a bottle of water. “How was it?”

Darcy blinked. “Uh, it was...amazing,” she said with a laugh that she hoped didn’t betray her confusion. Weren’t therapists supposed to walk their clients out? Wasn’t she going to have _any_ more time with Steve?

Wanda smiled and motioned for Darcy to follow her. “Well you were given the best,” she said with a nod. “No question about it. Unfortunately, Steve had another appointment, but he put a few things aside for you up front.” They made their way downstairs and back into the lobby. “Did he tell you to drink water?”

She nodded, hoping she didn’t seem too disappointed. “Yeah,” she untwisted the cap of her bottle and took a sip just to prove that she listened. “Hydrate for the next forty-eight,” she repeated. “Got it.”

Wanda slid behind her desk and produced two glass bottles of lotion. “And these are for you,” she said with a smile. “Steve’s recommendation.”

“Oh,” Darcy shook her head. “That’s really sweet but I can’t afford--”

“He said it was already taken care of,” she interrupted and got out a brown paper bag. She smiled and raised her eyebrows. “Part of your birthday gift, perhaps?”

She bit her lip and picked up the larger of the two bottles. “Is this the stuff he used?”

Wanda nodded. “It’s a warming lotion,” she said with a smile and that musical lilt of hers. “Melts like butter on the skin.”

Darcy hesitated for another moment before the urge to spoil herself won out. “Oh, what the heck,” she said and pushed it back to Wanda. “If he said it’s taken care of.”

She left with her bag of treats and a business card and Wanda’s promise that she’d get a discount as a returning client. The air outside the shop felt crisper than before and a sharp wind stung her eyes as she made her way down the stairs and back to the street.

She dug into her purse and retrieved her phone, unsurprised to find a variety of work and personal messages and one missed call from Tony.

She rolled her eyes affectionately and called him back.

“I’m the best, right? Was it good?” he asked by way of answering. “Am I the best?”

She laughed and paused at the end of the block, leaning against the nearest brick wall. “It was great,” she admitted truthfully. “You’re the best. Thank you and thank Pepper for me. That was the best gift ever.”

“Good,” Tony sounded pleased. “You deserve it.”

She smiled and pushed back her hair as the conversation naturally turned to work and the upcoming week.

By the time she got home, she’d planned out the happy hour specials for the next week and listened to Tony bemoan the struggles of his Queens location and she’d had just about enough coffee talk to last her until she returned in two days. But the distraction of shop talk had been a welcome one. It was easier to let Tony ramble about the cafe and bounce ideas and recommendations off each other than to try to wrap her head around what exactly had just occurred.

But alone in her apartment and without Tony chirping in her ear, she dumped out the bag from Gemini and examined the lotions Wanda claimed Steve had picked out for her. The warming lotion smelled just like his hands had when he’d placed them against her temples the first time. Like soft lavender and honey.

She sighed and set the bottles aside. Maybe Steve’s brush of her lips had been an accident, she reasoned with herself. Maybe he’d been embarrassed by how close he’d come to accidentally crossing a line and it had only been a coincidence of poor time management that he’d had to rush off to his next appointment without completely finishing up with her.

Maybe, Darcy conceded as she pulled her feet up and hugged her knees. But blaming everything on accidents and bad timing didn’t smooth over the lingering feeling that there might have actually been a spark between them. And it didn’t explain the almost overwhelming urge she’d had to kiss him when she’d felt him holding her face in his hands.

And it didn’t stop her from wondering if maybe one of them had done something wrong.


	2. Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's just what the title says, kids.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. I promised you smut and I think I delivered. Only like, 6 months late. This was nagging me for months, hanging around on my WIP list until I just couldn't stand it anymore. Unbeta'd and probably riddled with typos, but it is here. And it is preetttty smutty. And it's just for you, kittens. Because I love you.

To Darcy's delight, the café was busy all week. Crazy, stupid, understaffed, balls-to-the-wall busy and if she barely had a spare minute to eat, she certainly shouldn't have had time to stress and over-think one isolated moment from the week before.

But Darcy was nothing if not an exceptional multi-tasker.

So while she'd been steaming milk for hundreds of cappuccinos and plating cannoli and tiramisu by the truckload, she'd been thinking about Steve.

And his stupid, soft eyes and his shy smile and his ridiculously firm chest and abs.

And his hands. His perfect, strong, talented hands.

Darcy had been thinking a _lot_ about his hands.

The numbers on the spreadsheet in front of her were starting to blur the longer she sat staring at the computer screen. She pushed away from her desk and scrubbed at her eyes behind her glasses and let her head tip back.

Only half an hour left until she could lock the door and head home for the weekend. Home to her peaceful, silent apartment where she could lock the door, put on some jazz and let her mind wander wherever it wanted, guilt-free.

Her hands too, if she was being honest.

A loud knock jolted her up and out of her chair. “What's up?” she asked, opening the door to find Kenzie looking bored.

“That guy here’s to see you.”

Darcy blinked. “That guy?” she asked the college student who helped her close the cafe most nights. “I’m going to need at least one adjective if you can’t give me a name.”

Kenzie rolled her eyes. “You know, that guy with the jaw and the eyes--”

“Literally describing 99.9% of all human faces right now, Kenz. Do better.”

“He came in like, three days ago and asked for you but you were already gone for the night.” When this revelation was met with only a blank stare and a raised eyebrow, Kenzie continued. “Come on, I told you about him.”

“Nope,” she shook her head. “You didn’t.”

Kenzie’s face crinkled in contemplation. “No?” Darcy shook her head. “Huh. Wonder who I told then...”

She rolled her eyes and pulled the office door closed behind her as she and her barista made their way to the front of the shop.

Where Steve was waiting for her.

He looked different in just street clothes, doing a terrible job of pretending to check out the kinds of loose leaf tea they offered, not making eye contact.

She turned to Kenzie with another raised eyebrow and pointed. “Him?” She received a nod. “He came in here earlier this week?” Another nod. “Kay.”

She took a deep breath and lifted the swinging section of the counter to step into the dining room. Her heart hammered needlessly somewhere up inside her throat and she swallowed hard before she sucked in another inhale and put on a smile. “Steve?”

He turned around too quickly and almost scattered the cup of coffee stirrers everywhere, catching it just in time to salvage a giant mess. He set the stir sticks back in their rightful place and offered a smile that was more than a little embarrassed. “Uh, hi,” he said with an awkward wave that turned into his hand rubbing at the back of his neck. “Hi, Darcy.”

Darcy bit her lip. “Hi,” she echoed. “What’s...up?”

“Oh, I was just in the neighborhood and I—" he stopped and glanced toward the counter. His smile faltered. “Uh, does she need something?”

Darcy followed his gaze and found her barista staring expectantly at both of them. “A life,” she muttered under breath before she forced a smile. “Let’s go outside,” she said and shot her employee a glare before motioning for him to follow her to the outdoor seating they offered under the bistro lights. “So,” she said taking a seat in the chair he pulled out for her. “I heard belatedly that you were looking for me.”

“Uh, yeah,” he glanced down and cleared his throat. “I just...wanted to apologize,” he said, the last words coming out in a rush. “For last week. That was just...that was a big mistake on my part and I just... I wanted to come and apologize in person.”

She frowned. Her head tilted to the side as the realization of his apology settled over her. “Oh,” she said slowly, willing herself not to be too disappointed. A mistake. A mistake that he was obviously embarrassed by. Definitely not something he wanted to happen again. She shook her head and forced another smile. “Don't worry about it,” she said and waved his words away. “No harm, no foul.”

He mirrored the shake of her head with his own. “No, really. I was so unprofessional and that’s just...that’s really not like me.”

Her frown stayed in place and deepened in confusion. “It's really not that big of a deal, Steve,” she assured him. “I didn't mention it to your boss or anything.”

His turn to look confused. “You didn't have to, she was well-aware.”

“How could she have been?”

He stopped himself. “Wait. What are you talking about?”

Her brow furrowed. “How you…” it was her turn to stop. “What are _you_ talking about?”

“How I went almost thirty minutes over schedule because I wanted—”

“ _What?_ ” she exclaimed, interrupting him as her eyes widened in surprise.

“What did you think I was talking about?”

She floundered, mouth agape for a second before she rushed ahead. “Just that it…kinda…seemed like maybe you were flirting back with me and I figured it would make sense for you to feel bad about that?” Although, when she said it out loud it seemed a little ridiculous that he’d make two trips down here just to apologize for flirting with her. “But…apparently we’re not talking about the same thing.”

His lips curled into a guilty half-smile. “No, I probably shouldn’t have done _that_ either but that’s the least of my problems.” He shook his head. “I almost fucked up the appointments for the rest of the day...Wanda was _pissed_. I'm doing everyone's laundry for the next month to make it up to her.” He stopped and looked up. “You’re telling me you didn't _notice_ that I went so far over?”

She gaped for a moment before she laughed. “I was in a state of bliss,” she reminded him indignantly. “It's not like I was looking at the clock.” She watched as her words pulled a little smile from the corner of Steve's lips. “And if she was mad, Wanda definitely didn't let on when she walked me out.”

He let out a choked laugh. “She said you seemed upset when you left.”

“Upset?” Darcy repeated. “Hardly. I just...” She stopped herself and shook her head.

“You just what?”

“No,” she insisted. “It's not important.”

His smile grew a little bolder. “Come on, finish your sentence.”

Her lips turned downward again. “Hang on,” she said abruptly. “ _You_ finish _your_ sentence.”

“What? What's sentence?”

“You just said that you went over a half hour because you wanted...” she raised her eyebrows. “Dot dot dot. What did you want, Steve?”

Steve looked conflicted for a moment before he sat back in his seat with a sigh of resignation. “I...wanted to spend more time with you.”

She felt the line between her eyebrows deepen. “You what now?”

He laughed. “Is that so hard to believe?”

Darcy opened her mouth to retort before she closed it and rubbed her lips together. “Well, no,” she decided out loud. “I don’t blame you there. I’m great.”

Steve laughed again. “You _are_ great,” he agreed with a nod.

“But yeah, I mean, it’s a little bit of a shock just because I…” she sighed and brought her hands up to cover her face. “I had myself convinced that you were just being professional and really good at your job.”

When she brought her hands down, he was still laughing quietly, shaking his head. “Uh, no, part of being good at my job is sticking to a timetable and not letting a crush ruin the schedule for the rest of the day.”

“Good to know,” Darcy nodded, her cheeks flushing pink at his use of the word _crush_. “Had I known that, I could have saved myself a week of Googling ‘How to tell if your massage therapist was flirting with you’.”

Steve looked surprised. “Oh really?”

“Super helpful results, let me tell you.”

“Enlighten me.”

“Well. Ten percent of the results said ‘No, absolutely. Get over yourself, they were just doing their job,’” she paused and pushed her hair back after the breeze blew it into her face. “And the other ninety percent was Happy Ending porn.”

Steve threw back his head and let out a loud, ungoverned laugh. “Seriously?” he asked when his laughter had faded. “Ninety percent?”

Darcy shook her head sadly. “The internet is a filthy, filthy place, Steve.”

“Don’t I know it,” he muttered with a sardonic half-smile.

They were quiet as a brief, almost awkward silence passed over them. Darcy folded her hands in her lap and cleared her throat. “So.”

“So…are you going to finish your sentence now?”

She tilted her head. “Huh? Oh,” she wrinkled her nose and resisted the urge to squirm.

“If you weren’t upset…”

Darcy rolled her eyes. “Okay, I was a little upset,” she admitted. “But not because…” she paused and shook her head with a quick mental shove into _fuck it_ territory. “Look, I was disappointed you weren’t there to walk me out because I wanted to keep flirting with you.” Steve’s lips turned into another smirk that was almost too sexy to resist. She held up a finger. “And before you go getting all smug,” she warned, “I’m only copping to that because you said you liked me first.” She cleared her throat and sat up straighter. “Otherwise I had a full-scale plan of playing it cool and being over my little crush in like, a week or so.”

“Yikes,” he teased. “A week? I’m that easy to get over?”

She shrugged modestly. “Two weeks altogether,” she reminded him. “That’s pretty good for a standard Darcy Lewis Crush.”

Steve nodded, contemplative. “Standard Darcy Lewis Crush…” he mused.

“Don’t knock it,” she warned. “It’s a privilege denied to many.”

“So, while I’m still in the green zone,” Steve sat up straighter before he leaned in. “Would now be a good time to ask if I could see you again?”

Darcy bit her lip and pretended to consider it. “Depends on what you have in mind…” she began, carefully. “And it can’t be tonight because I’ve been here since six and I’m really gross and have an unavoidable appointment with my pajamas and Netflix.”

He laughed. “Well, I’m not going to try to nose in on _that_ relationship.” He looked down, a flash of uncertainty crossing his otherwise cocky expression. “Are you working tomorrow?”

“No,” she with a quick shake of her head before she smiled. “What are you thinking?”

Steve cleared his throat. “Honestly, I’m still thinking about the fact that you left my room disappointed last week.” He looked up again with another grin. “Doesn’t happen that often.”

She snorted. “Feel free to make it up to me with another one whenever you want.”

 “Well…since we’re both off tomorrow…”

She blinked. “What?” she asked. “You want to give me another massage? On your day off?”

“I take my work very seriously, Darcy,” he said with a straight face that only lasted a moment before his lips twitched again. “I don’t like leaving my customers unsatisfied.”

She opened her mouth to rebut but found herself tongue-tied for a moment, contending with his sexy smirk and the devilish sparkle in his eye that told her he knew _exactly_ what she was thinking. She shook her head. “That’s not fair,” she insisted. “I don’t want to make you work on your day off.”

He shrugged. “It wouldn’t be work if it was with you,” he said easily. “It’d just be fun.” Steve watched her consider his offer for another moment before he cleared his throat and shook his head. “But I mean, if that sounds weird or—”

“No,” she cut him off quickly. “No, it sounds…” she paused and pursed her lips. “It sounds fun,” she decided out loud. “Do you make house calls?”

Steve grinned. “I do,” he said, “but I have a better set-up at my place if you want to come over…say…around noon?”

Briefly, Darcy wondered if she was being an idiot and letting this crush blind her sensibilities. But then she remembered how safe and secure and _good_ Steve had made her feel last week. She’d had riskier one-night stands, she reminded herself. No reason she couldn’t take her usual precautions and see where this led. “Sure,” she agreed in a tone she hoped sounded casual. “Where do you live?”

 

***

 

Steve lived in a one-bedroom apartment only a few blocks from the spa. His place was nicer than Darcy’s with blonde hardwoods and big windows and had her rethinking her career path as he helped her out of her coat the next afternoon.

The apartment was sparsely decorated in a bunch of neutral and earth tones. His living room was home to some dark, squashy leather furniture and a massage table set up in the center, not unlike the one she’d laid on last week. She smiled at the sight of it. “Is that usually set up like that?”

He shook his head. “Only for special guests,” he said with a grin.

Darcy bit her lip, trying to hold back a nervous giggle. She blushed when Steve raised a curious eyebrow in her direction. “I, um,” she paused and laughed again. “I wasn’t sure if you were serious about wanting to give me another massage or if we were just talking about…”

Steve glanced down at the ground and rubbed the back of his neck. “I kinda thought we were talking about both?” he said, with a hopeful look up before he let out a laugh that almost sounded nervous. “But I didn’t want to assume one way or the other.” Darcy’s stomach flipped with nervous excitement as he hurriedly continued, “and, y’know, we don’t have to do anything—at all. We can just—”

Darcy wet her lips, banishing her urge to be self-conscious and took a step closer, canceling the space between them. “You’re cute when you’re nervous,” she said with a soft smile and rose up on her toes to brush her lips to his.

She paused for a moment, wondering if she was being too forward. If she should be acting like she didn’t want exactly what she thought she’d come here for. But it was only a moment before Steve slid his free hand into her hair and held her to him.

He kissed as good as he looked; his lips moved softly but with a surprising intensity for a first kiss that settled her fears that she’d misunderstood what he wanted. His thumb absently stroked the shell of her ear before he let her go. “So, is that a vote for…both?” he asked, uncertainly, as she sank back down to the floor.

Darcy laughed and let her hand drift down his arm and laced their fingers together. “Well,” she began, taking a step backward toward the table, pulling him gently with her, “I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want another massage.” She stopped when she felt the edge of the table butt against her tailbone. “Or that I’m not curious to see what might happen if you weren’t worried about being professional.”

Steve’s eyes dropped again as he gave her a long, appraising look that warmed her belly and made her mouth run dry. “I’ve been thinking about that too,” he said softly. He untangled their fingers and let his hands fall to her hips for a moment before he grabbed hold and hoisted her up onto the table, pulling a squeal of surprise from her. “And trust me,” he assured her, bringing a hand to her face again, “I’m not thinking anything professional right now.”

She let herself lean into his kiss the next time his lips met hers; she slid her hands up his chest to clasp her hands behind his head and opened her mouth at the first tentative brush of his tongue against the seam of her lips. His hands gripped her hips possessively before one hand slid up her back, splaying wide between her shoulder blades and pressing her hard against him.

Darcy broke their kiss with a breathless abruptness and let Steve press his forehead against hers as her breathing returned to normal. His eyes were bluer than hers, pupils fat with lust and ringed with the longest eyelashes she’d ever seen. “Gosh, you’re pretty,” she breathed with a smile.

Steve grinned back and dropped his head to press a kiss to her cheek. “So are you,” he said, punctuating his words with another kiss, this one closer to her ear. “Beautiful, actually. I’ve been thinking about you all week.” His teeth grazed her earlobe, sending a shiver of desire down her spine and a rush of heat between her legs. His hands drifted to her waist and his fingers slipped under the hem of her t-shirt. “Let me make you feel good, Darcy.”

Her heart hammering in her ears, she raised her arms over her head and gave him a quick nod of invitation before he slid the material up and pulled it off quickly, depositing it on the floor behind him. He dropped his hands to her shoulders and pulled her in for another kiss. This one slower, gentler, more in control. Darcy squeezed his narrow hips with her knees and reached behind herself to unclasp her bra, desperate for more. Steve’s hands followed hers on her mission and they slid her bra straps down together before he tossed the garment away with her t-shirt.

He broke away this time, exhaling slowly as he drank her in with bold hunger burning in his eyes. Darcy took in another deep breath, suddenly nervous again under the intensity of his gaze. It had been too long since anyone looked at her like that; like they wanted to devour her whole. She bit her lip. “See anything you like?” she asked, ducking her head to catch his eyes again.

Steve blinked and she caught a faint blush on his cheeks. “I see everything I like,” he said, his voice hoarse before he cleared his throat. “Wanna—um—why don’t you lay down. I’ve gotta get the uh—”

“Massage oil?” Darcy finished for him as a piece of her hair fell into her eyes.

Steve pushed it back for her and dropped another kiss on her lips. “Sorry,” he offered another shy smile. “You’re very distracting.”

She snorted and rolled her eyes. “Don’t you just say the sweetest things.”

Still pink, Steve leaned in and kissed her again. “Just get comfortable,” he said, taking a half-step backward. “I’ll only be a minute.”

She waited until he’d left the room before she shimmied out of her jeans and panties, sliding them under the massage table with a swift kick before she climbed back on and slipped beneath the sheets. She pulled them over her chest and propped herself up uncomfortably on her elbows. “Hey, do you want me on my back or my stomach?” she called, unable to help her cheeky grin.

He was laughing to himself when he came back in, carrying two glass bottles like the ones they sold at the spa. “Your stomach,” he said and nodded to the head of the table. “Just like before.”

“Mmmkay,” she said easily and flipped herself over. She pushed her hair over to one side and rested her cheek on her folded hands while she watched him move around the space, needlessly adjusting framed photos and knick-knacks on the two tables he wanted to place the bottles of oils.

He glanced over and smiled. “Comfortable?”

She nodded. “Your sheets are soft.”

“I wash them with the fancy soap at work,” he admitted, not looking at her.

Darcy grinned. “Can you start washing mine there too?”

He spared her another glance back. “I’m doing enough laundry because of you,” he reminded with a matching smirk before he turned around. He reached out and ran his fingers lightly through her hair, pulling her eyes closed and making her scalp tingle at his touch. “Lay all the way down,” he commanded lightly, “and let your arms rest at your sides.” He waited until she’d followed his instructions before he started folding the sheet down until it rested just below her tailbone. Darcy settled her face in the halo and heard him smile as his fingers teased along her spine. “Anywhere you don’t want to be touched?”

“Nope,” she said, glancing back over her shoulder with another grin. “I’m all yours.”

“Good,” Steve agreed and reached for the nearest bottle of oil. His hands were warm when he pressed his thumbs into the small of her back. She had to bite her lip to keep from letting out an ungoverned moan as he worked his way up slowly to her shoulder blades, feeling out the knots and tension that had developed since the last time she saw him. “Did you have a particularly stressful week?”

She opened her mouth to respond when he sank the heel of his hand into the bubble of stress just below her right shoulder blade and her response came out on the tail end of a sigh of relief. “Uh, no?” she answered finally while he worked out the knot. “Just busy. Why?”

“Because you’re carrying a really impressive amount of tension in your mid-back and I’m trying to figure out if that’s a normal thing for you.”

“Guilty,” she admitted. “I think it’s the concrete floors.” She paused and smiled to herself. “But thanks for thinking it’s impressive.”

She heard him laugh as he found another small knot that drew a sharp inhale from her. He re-oiled his hands and drew his fingers lazily, almost teasingly, over her back. “Impressive though it is,” he said with a smile, “You’ve gotta learn to relax, Darcy.”

She smiled down at the ground again. “Good thing I met you, isn’t it?”

“I was just thinking the same thing,” he admitted as he got back to work on her muscles. “Looks like I’ve got my work cut out for me.”

“Mmm,” Darcy purred in approval when he returned his attention to the troublesome knot he’d just discovered. “I like the sound of that.”

Steve ran his hands up over her shoulders and rubbed her neck for a moment before she felt his breath against her ear. “Then relax,” he said softly, chasing away the tension she didn’t realize she’d been holding. “I’m not going to do anything you don’t want.”

“I know,” she breathed when he sank his fingers into her hair and massaged her scalp, paying extra attention to her temples and the nape of her neck. She didn’t bother to hide her satisfied groan this time; with every movement of Steve’s fingers against her skin, Darcy felt herself unwind a little more. Forgetting that she had come here nervous, unsure if she had made a huge mistake in accepting this invitation, unsure if she even wanted what she thought she wanted.

But laying there, melting under Steve’s talented hands, Darcy was more certain than ever that this was exactly what she wanted.

She swallowed down any lingering nerves and cleared her throat. “Would it be okay if I turned over?” she asked, when he’d moved her hair back over one shoulder.

He paused for a moment before he answered. “Yeah,” he said, sounding a little surprised. “Yeah, of course.” Darcy turned herself over and resituated under the sheets. Steve removed the halo and ran his fingers through her hair once more to push it away from her face. He offered her another shy smile and let his thumb brush across her lips. “Still feeling okay?”

She nodded and pressed a kiss to the pad of his thumb. “I feel great,” she assured him softly. “But I was hoping you could give my legs some attention?”

Steve nodded and let his hands trail in a slow, meandering path down her body, leaving a slow-burning trail of desire in his wake. She couldn’t help but notice he was less conservative with how he moved her sheets this time. He pick up her right leg and stood at the foot of the table like he had before; he let her heel rest against his chest and slid his fingers along the underside of her calf until he could tickle the soft skin behind her knee.

Darcy hummed in satisfaction again and let her eyes slide from the stucco ceiling back down to where she found Steve working on the muscles in her lower legs with a soft intensity in his eyes. She wiggled her toes against his chest and drew his attention back to her. “Tell me what you were thinking about,” she asked, resisting the urge to look away shyly when he raised his eyebrows. “You said you were thinking about me all week,” she reminded gently, before she bit back a smile. “What were you thinking about?”

Steve’s thumbs ran up her calf again as he gently pressed her leg out to the side, opening her hip with a gentle _pop_. “I’ve been thinking about this,” he said after a moment’s contemplation, and brought her foot up to rest her heel on his shoulder. He turned his head and seared a kiss to the inside of her ankle. “This perfect skin of yours.” His hands moved upward, to her thigh, and the sheet fell a little further away. “You’re so soft,” he murmured as his fingers teased long, loving strokes higher and higher until Darcy was fighting the urge to squirm impatiently. “And gorgeous,” he added, sounding oblivious to what he was doing to her.

Her breath hitched when he ghosted a feather-light touch between her thighs. Just barely a touch. Not nearly enough to deliver any relief to the need he’d been building there since their first kiss. She squirmed again, trying to shift to press against his hand, but he’d danced his fingers away before she realized it and moved to her left leg. Darcy groaned again, more frustrated this time, when he set her other foot on his shoulder and kneaded her other calf with his knuckles.

He repeated what he’d done before, working the tension from her knees and lower legs before rotating her hips and then finally— _finally—_ moving his hands upward again.

For the second time, he brushed the seam of her lips without lingering. Darcy bit back a sigh when he ran both hands along the backs of her thighs, down to her knees and back again, his short nails dragging just the right amount of friction until he deliberately didn’t touch her again.

She let her head sink back with another groan when he held her in such a way that she couldn’t wriggle against him. “Something wrong?” he asked, a smile evident in his voice. The kind of smile that told her he knew exactly what he was doing.

“If I’d known you were such a tease—” the rest of the threat died on a sharp inhale as Steve’s fingers trailed over her slit again.

“You wouldn’t have come?” he finished for her, dropping another innocent kiss to her instep when he moved his fingers away for a third time.

She sighed again and twisted impatiently, desperate for some relief. Her teeth sank into her bottom lip once more and she pushed her hair back from her face again. “Don’t make me beg,” she said, her voice throaty with want as she propped herself up on one elbow and locked her blue eyes with his and added, “please.”

Steve’s throat bobbed with a hard swallow and the corner of his lips slid into a criminally sexy smirk. “I wouldn’t dream of it,” he assured her and slid his thick fingers between her folds, pulling a delectably ungoverned moan from them both as Darcy sank back on to the table. “Fuck, Darcy,” she heard him whisper. “You’re so wet.”

She rolled her hips to meet his hand and swallowed her own moan back as he began his slow, deliberate discovery of her pussy. “I’ve been thinking about this all week,” she admitted. “I’ve been thinking about your hands, and your eyes, and how—” she interrupted herself with an audible gasp when he found and circled her clit with two slick fingers, “how good you made me feel.”

The sheet fell away entirely, and Darcy forgot to feel self-conscious as Steve lavished slow, delicious attention on her. He pressed firmly against her with tentative, experimental pressure that had her swallowing down a chorus of moans. Her back arched off the table when he pressed against her entrance and stopped. “Can I—”

“Yes,” she said instantly, frantic to feel him inside of her in any way she could. “Please, Steve,” she added with a nod. He kept his eyes on hers as he pumped in one finger and then added a second. She nodded again and rocked her hips with the rhythm he was setting, letting her head fall back again.

She barely noticed her legs slip from his shoulders as his thrusts into her drew her closer and closer, the clenching in her belly growing more and more desperate until he pressed against her clit again with his other hand and drew hard, fast circles while he pumped in and out of her relentlessly and her orgasm snapped up the length of her spine and she felt herself clench against his fingers. He kept moving, milking the wave of pleasure until her breathing slowed again and he withdrew his hand and brought his fingers to his lips, licking away the taste of her slowly, deliberately.

Darcy gulped at the sight and forced herself to sit up. “Jesus,” she breathed, blinking the world slowly back into focus.

Steve smiled and leaned in to cradle her face with one of his hands. “Did you like that, Darcy?” he asked softly, just before their lips met.

She felt weak and boneless, her fingers and toes tingling with pleasure. “I loved that,” she admitted and pulled him to her for a kiss. She opened her lips beneath his and stroked her tongue over his, tasting her own saltiness in his mouth.

He broke away after a moment and pressed a trail of soft, teasing kisses over to her ear. “Do you want to keep going?” he asked before he pulled her earlobe between his teeth and bit gently.

“Absolutely,” Darcy said, the word coming out in a hush as she carded her fingers into his hair and tilted her head to give him further access to kiss and suck on her neck. “But not on the table.”

Steve pulled away with a grin and a single nod before he gathered her in his arms and scooped her up like she weighed nothing. It was only a few steps backwards before he collapsed into the deep leather couch cushions and she found herself on top, straddling his lap. “Better,” she determined aloud and brought his face back to hers for a deep, greedy kiss. His erection was obvious in this position, pressing insistently against her as she took advantage of where he’d let her end up and let her hands roam freely over his chest and shoulders before she slipped below the hem of his shirt and pushed the fabric up and over his head. He helped her out in the last moment and freed himself from his t-shirt, tossing it somewhere behind them and Darcy sat back on her heels to admire him for a moment. “Talk about distracting,” she murmured, shaking her head before he curled his fingers into her hair and pulled her in again. “You’re practically photoshopped.”

Steve grinned against her lips. “I’m taking that as a compliment,” he said, sitting up so she could slide her bare chest against his as his hands spanned her back and rubbed comforting circles between her shoulders.

“Good,” Darcy pulled away with another grin and ducked her head to kiss the line of his jaw, enjoying the scrape of stubble against her lips. She trailed soft, wet kisses over his collarbone and down the hard, sculpted lines of his chest. She inched her body slowly down his, untangling their legs until she was right where she wanted to be. Her fingers worked quickly to unbuckle his belt and undo the buttons and zipper of his jeans. He helped her slide his pants and his boxer briefs down his thighs and kicked the last remaining barriers between them away as Darcy sat back on her heels again and licked her lips at the sight of this beautiful hard cock awaiting her attention.

“You don’t have to—” Any gentlemanly adage that Steve was about to throw out dissolved into a deep inhale as Darcy took hold of him in one hand and swirled her tongue around the tip. She wrapped her lips around the head of his cock and bobbed gently, letting her tongue slide against him while her hand took care of what wouldn’t fit in her mouth. Steve groaned and shifted beneath her.

His hands normally so steady and controlled, moved from her hair to her shoulders to his thighs as if he couldn’t figure out what to do with them. Darcy glanced up at him as she came up off his cock and guided his fingers back into her hair with a smile before she resumed her mission to make him feel as good as she did. He nodded and let his hands rest, one on the back of her neck and one buried in her dark curls as his eyes dropped closed and a flush colored his cheeks.

Darcy ran her tongue along the underside of his dick, suckling her way up and down with open-mouthed kisses and teasing flicks of her tongue until she felt his fingers clench in tighter in her hair. The sounds she was pulling from him were sexier than she could have imagined. Deep groans from the back of his throat, moans he tried to smother between his lips, little satisfied gasps that had her fighting the urge to slip her hand between her legs and explore how wet he was making her again.

She felt his thighs tremble beneath her hands before he tugged gently on her hair. “You’ve gotta stop,” he stammered softly. “I’m gonna—”

Darcy came off him with a soft, wet _pop_ and smiled. “I don’t mind,” she said, tilting her head to kiss the inside of his knee.

But Steve shook his head and released her hair, taking her face in his hands again. “I mind,” he said firmly, pulling her up off her knees to kiss her again. “I don’t want to finish like that,” he said, before their lips met again and a spiral of pleasure coiled down her spine.

She pressed her forehead against his and wrapped her arms around his neck. She climbed back into his lap and had to resist the need to just sink right down onto him and let him fuck her senseless. “Condom?” she asked, not wanting to break this spell he had her under.

Steve’s eyelashes were so long they practically tangled in hers as he blinked and nodded. “Hang on,” he said and shifted her to the side, so he could reach for his jeans again and retrieve a familiar foil square that he tore into with his teeth. Darcy waited impatiently while he slid it on before she straddled him again and let him grab hold of her hips to pull her slowly down onto his hot, waiting cock.

A deep, satisfied groan rumbled from her chest as Steve ran his hands from her hips to her breasts and she pressed herself into his palms. It took a moment to acclimate to the feeling of being so stretched and full of this beautiful man before she was ready to move again. Steve pinched her nipples between his fingers, playing and teasing before he leaned forward and closed his lips around one. Darcy moaned again and shifted her hips to rise up and sink back down on his length. He kissed his way back up to her ear and wrapped an arm around her waist before clutching her earlobe between his teeth again. “Are you okay?” he asked, his words sounding strained as she felt him shifting beneath her, anxious to move.

She nodded and moved her hips again. “Please just fuck me, Steve.”

He kept both arms around her waist as he shifted and laid her back against the arm of the couch. They were clumsy for a moment, shifting and situating while trying to stay locked together. Steve took one of her legs and looped it over his shoulder while the other wrapped around his impossibly trim waist. He dropped his head and kissed her again, making her forget anything except the feeling of him pressing into her, filling her so completely until he pulled out again. He thrust into her a second time, pulling a sharp cry of pleasure from the back of her throat and then stopped again, buried deep inside of her. Darcy pulled her eyes open and waited for him to move again, but he didn’t. He bent his head and kissed her. He kissed her mouth, her neck, her breasts, anywhere he could reach without slipping from inside of her. His tongue teased her nipples again, and she arched against him. When his hand slipped between her thighs, his fingers brushing her swollen clit, she gasped, eyes wide, clenching him inside her reflexively.

"Jesus," he hissed, but his fingers bore down harder, drawing circles again, and she clawed at his back. "Right here?" he asked, sucking what would probably be a bruise into her neck. She nodded frantically. "Is this what you want?"

"Yes!" she gasped, rocking her hips in time with his fingers in what little space she had to move. He’d trapped her to the couch beneath, and he moved back to kiss her lips again, sucking on her tongue and humming his approval of the way her body gripped him. His fingers moved deftly between her thighs again, her senses felt close to overloading as her thighs tightened around him.

"Steve—I—" There wasn’t time for anything else as he swallowed her moans and words against his lips. He groaned as she trembled underneath him, pulsing around him. And then he was moving, pulling his cock out just to push it back in. His thrusts were hard, relentless, his hips driving hers into the cushion, and when his fingers began moving between her thighs again, she gasped in surprise, still sensitive from her first orgasm. She shook her head and pulled his hand away. “I can’t,” she insisted.

He kissed her, swallowing her pleading sounds. "It's okay, it's okay," he whispered into her mouth, and laced their fingers together instead, pulling them up and anchoring her hands above her head. She moaned against him as he maintained his speed, thrusting hard, snapping his hips with hers. “You feel so good,” he said against her lips. “You’re so beautiful, Darcy.”

She shifted just an inch beneath him and his next thrust hit her just right, an unexpected orgasm slamming into her as Steve’s thrusts became less measured, less controlled. “Please, Steve,” she cried into his neck. "I want you to go fast.”

He gripped her hands almost painfully and sped up until he was thrusting erratically into her, his hips straining and she felt him throbbing inside of her as he moaned her name against her shoulder. He let go of her hands and sank one into her hair again, holding her head against the side of his face. Darcy let her legs fall away from him as the sound of their labored breathing filled the room.

“Holy shit,” Steve said breathlessly into her hair.

She nodded and gulped for breath. “Yeah.”

He shifted so he could look at her, his cheeks flushed and a thin glisten of sweat along his hairline. He moved a dark curl that had stuck to the side of her face. “That was…” he trailed off and pinned his forehead to hers.

“Yeah,” she agreed with a shaky, breathless smile. “It was.”

Her body protested when he shifted to pull out of her and he got up to get rid of the condom. Her thighs were still trembling as she tried to sit up and pull herself back together. Steve returned to the living room with a bottle of water and picked his t-shirt up from the floor before he sat down beside her and offered it to her with a smile much too shy for a man who’d just delivered her three perfectly mind-blowing orgasms.

She pulled his shirt on first, pleased that it was already roomy enough in the chest that she didn’t have to worry about stretching it out. She unscrewed the cap on the bottle of water and took a long drink. She offered it back to him with a cheeky grin. “Is this when you tell me to hydrate myself for the next forty-eight hours?”

Steve chuckled and took a sip before he set the bottle on the floor and pulled his boxer briefs back on. “Sure,” he said with a shrug. “I’d say we worked some toxins out of our systems.”

Darcy grinned and leaned in to kiss him again. Her lips would be chapped later, but she didn’t care. She wanted as much of Steve as she could get before she had to go home. “So, is this what they call a Happy Ending?” she teased, leaning into trade another quick kiss.

Steve raised his eyebrows and pushed her hair back from her face again. He glanced down between them and looked back up again before he swallowed. “I was…kind of hoping it was more of a happy beginning.”

She blinked and felt her head recoil an inch in surprise. “You were?”

Steve smiled. “I really like you, Darcy,” he admitted softly.

She felt herself smiling back. “I really like you too,” she admitted.

He leaned in and kissed her again—the kind of kiss that felt like the beginning of something very happy indeed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My standard warning about how massage is medical and NOT sexual still applies, btw. Don't let anyone touch you where you don't want to be touched.
> 
> I hope that's obvious here. I love you kittens and I want you to be safe and happy and sexually satisfied. *kisses*

**Author's Note:**

> And just for the record, to hopefully keep people from sending me hate, I don't support any kind of unprofessional missteps in the world of massage therapy. They're not sexual, they're medical. If your therapist touches you in a way that is not cool, you have every right to stop the treatment and ask them to leave the room. Hopefully that was clear.
> 
> Also, I 100% support and love tattoos and so does Steve.


End file.
